


What It Takes to Be Happy

by ask_catnip



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 22:43:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18303308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ask_catnip/pseuds/ask_catnip
Summary: “Maddening, isn’t it?” Freddie sighed.John nodded, “ but also exiquisite.”“How can anything be so joyful and devastating at the same time?”“...we are still talking about the painting, right?” John said with a smirk on his face.





	What It Takes to Be Happy

The studio is excruciatingly quiet today. 

The sound of music was muffled by the walls of silence standing between the four of them. And no one dared to comment on it.

In the end, Brian decided to be the one to call it a day, and no one objected. Freddie left with his coat without so much as saying goodbye, leaving the others with their thoughts. John stood arms crossed with his bass still hanging on the shoulder, gave Brian a suggestive look before turning back to their drummer. Brian sighed deeply and asked “Roger, what did you do?”

“Why is it _my_ fault?” Roger retorted, not looking up.

“So you do know what I’m talking about.” Brian stepped closer to the drums, looking down at the younger man who was trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Because you are certainly doing a great job of hiding the damage by getting so defensive about yourself.”

Roger boiled with anger at Brian’s accusation, he stood up and took off his sunglasses, revealing the dark shadows under those tired blue eyes.

“Will you two calm down now.” John put a hand on Roger’s shoulder, stopping him midway of assaulting the taller man over the drums, and directed a concerned look at Roger. “We only want to know what happened so we can help.”

At those words, Roger bit his bottom lip. Was it his fault? Probably, very likely, certainly. But he couldn’t pinpoint when did everything start to go wrong. 

He could certainly blame the flamed intimacy and the panic that followed in Freddie’s bedroom few nights ago. Or was it the time when he couldn’t bear the devouring void he felt after his venturing night, and frantically ran to Freddie’s house at four in the morning? Maybe it was the first time they had too much booze and talked overnight about music and what they wanted to become, then watched the sunrise together wrapped in one blanket. It could even be when they were first introduced to each other, he took a look at the dark hair man and said “You have nice eyes”, and Freddie gave him an unreserved smile. 

A sudden feeling of sadness washed over him, and Roger couldn’t help but gasped. 

Seeing the state of his friend, Brian felt guilty about the harsh words he said earlier. He had expected an angry outburst from Roger, but never foresaw what he was about to become, a sobbing mess. 

“Oh, shit...” Brian reached out to gently hold Roger to his shoulder, “there, there...” Brian felt stupid, but Roger didn’t seem to care about the way their bodies awkwardly pressed together, he just kept on crying. 

“For the record” John remarked, “you made him cry.”  
“Oh, shut up.” Brian blushed a little. “Now what?” He looked to John for help, but the bassist merely shrugged.

It was a gloomy day, like any other days in September. John walked up the stairs of Tate gallery, and lightened his footsteps once he entered the grand hall. He walked through corridors and rooms filled with paintings and sculptures, took a wrong turn and almost ended up in the service room. 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips when John spotted a slender figure sitting in the room with crimson walls, staring absently at the painting in front of him.

“Hello, Freddie.” The figure was startled at the sudden call of his own name. “Thought I’d be lucky if I find you here.”  
“Indeed you _are_ lucky, darling.” Freddie replied with a faint smile.  
“You were not answering your phone calls.”  
“I cut the line.”  
“Oh.”

John sat down next to the man in white T-shirt and jeans, eyes fixed on the painting.  
“Maddening, isn’t it?” Freddie sighed.  
John nodded, “ but also exiquisite.”  
“How can anything be so joyful and devastating at the same time?”  
“... we are still talking about the painting, right?” John said with a smirk on his face.  
Freddie rolled his eyes.

John wrapped an arm around the older man’s shoulder, “I love you Freddie, we all love you.”  
“All except one.” The spark in Freddie’s eyes dimmed.  
“That’s not true. You know Roger loves you more than anyone.” John waited a minute for the other man to say something before opening his mouth again. “He just needs sometime.”  
“So what? I’ll just have to wait like a little maiden until one day the great Roger fucking Taylor come to grace my little world with his presence?” Freddie groaned, “He’s not even my type, for fuck’s sake!”

John smiled apologetically and mouthed “sorry” to the woman who just entered the room but was immediately scared away by Freddie’s cursing.  
“Well, if that’s what it takes to be happy...”  
“I don’t know what happiness is anymore, John” 

There was a certain melancholy in Freddie’s eyes John couldn’t fathom, and that made him felt distant from the best friend he’s ever had. He knew it was nobody’s fault, and there was nothing he can do, so he just held Freddie closer and let him talk.  
“We used to be great together, Roger and I, all those nights out getting shitfaced. It was so simple and happy. Then something changed, we changed, and I couldn’t live with him hooking up with those girls at parties. I knew he’d come back to me at the end of the night, but it didn’t stop me from feeling agitated the whole time.”  
“So...why don’t you tell him that?” John suggested tentatively.  
“Sure I did.” Freddie’s lips twisted, and moaned in frustration, “but I had been too hysterical about it and I yelled at him. God, he looked...frightened. Then he wouldn’t even talk to girls without looking to me first, like I was going to get mad at him again.”

John could recall Brian and Roger having shouting matches in the studio numerous times, and none of them resulted in Roger being frightened. Having Freddie scolded him must meant something completely different. He didn’t know if he should point that out to his friend.

“So, you know, I got a little bold last week...”  
“What happened last week?” John frowned at the last few words that almost went inaudible.

Last week was a terrible mistake. Freddie thought to himself.

Freddie could’ve blamed the alcohol, but either him or Roger barely had one drink. He could’ve blamed how dashing Roger looked that night, but underneath that fancy white jacket was the same person who laughed at any of his dirty jokes every time. He could’ve blamed Roger’s flirtatious touches under the dinner table, drawing him closer and closer until the lady next table gave them the side eye, but it was him who grabbed Roger by the wrist and dragged him to his house.

They collapsed onto each other once they got to the sofa, panting and laughing, limbs tangled. Freddie blew a few blond curls off his face, turned to the side and found Roger’s face only an inch away. The younger man was enjoying the mellow, with his head tilted back and eyes shut. 

Freddie found himself staring at Roger’s wine colored lips, they were full and inviting, absolutely kissable. How he wanted to taste them, ravish them, and make them his. So he moved to kiss Roger before his mind could form any reasonable objection. 

Roger’s eyes shot open the moment Freddie’s lips touched his. He let out a surprised cry, but it was swallowed by the heat of the other man’s mouth. He clutched Freddie’s shoulder, pushing slightly at the man above him, then he stopped and dug a hand into Freddie’s hair instead.

Freddie’s one hand was cupping Roger’s delicate jaw, and the other held him firmly on the waist, grinding slowly at the body beneath him. Roger opened his jaw a bit wider, giving the other man easier access. Freddie’s tongue lingered over his bottom lip for a while before catching his tongue for a tango. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, Roger pulled Freddie’s hair harder, and his body relaxed to the rhythm gradually built up by the other man’s hips. He never thought kissing could be so intense and emotional, not like the way Freddie licked into his mouth and took his breath away. And his body reacted to the kiss more vigorously than he expected. Something was breaking and burning inside, he felt like a volcano on the verge of eruption. 

Freddie pushed himself up from the blond, and took no leisure in removing all of his clothes. Roger was suddenly faced with a Freddie in his birthday suit, and he couldn’t help but swallowed at the sight. Surely he had seen him naked countless times in dressing rooms, but certainly not when he’s fully aroused. 

The look on Roger’s face must have given him away, because Freddie just smiled down at him, and caressed his plump bottom lip with a thumb. 

“Relax, pretty boy, I’m not gonna fuck you. Not tonight.”  
“D...don’t call me that...” Roger’s already rosy cheeks blushed one shade deeper. 

The body heat returned with the touch of Freddie’s bare skin. The blue in Roger’s eyes deepened with needs, his lips parted unconsciously, ready to take that slick tongue back again. Freddie got hold of Roger’s wrist, and gently guided it to his groin. At the touch of another man’s burning desire, Roger whimpered with a shudder. “Steady there, Roggie.” Freddie smiled and moved a hand to unbutton Roger’s trousers, slipping the tight fabrics off his hips. Roger felt venerable under the scrutiny of Freddie’s gaze. Those dark eyes he loved were sparkling with excitement, much like him on stage, but somehow different... 

No time was left for Roger to contemple on Freddie’s state of mind, because his half erection was grasped by a skillful hand that stroked him to complete hardness in a flash. 

Roger was moaning as Freddie worked him up with more intensity. His white shirt was wide open, barely hanging from the arms, his chest glittered with sweat. He was drifting in the haze of pure ecstasy, heart pounding faster and harder than his drumrolls. 

Freddie was impatient with the pace Roger’s hands were moving, he shifted and aligned their bodies together, taking both of their cocks in his palm. Roger gasped and bit his lip, never had he rubbed himself against another man before, and the pure stimulation of it gave him a bump of pleasure, pushing him further toward the edge.

Then it came the grand finale, with Roger screaming in tears and Freddie cursing and biting on his shoulder. Freddie lay heavily on him, still panting. He couldn’t do or think anything for a great few minutes, except staring idly into the nothingness, until the real world came back to embrace him.

The first thought after coming down from his climax was dread. Then it all went rolling down like an avalanche.

Roger had never been attracted to men, nor had he ever have any venturing experience with the same sex. The bare thought of being gay is mortifying, since half of his adolescence was spent on fighting those boys who teased him for looking like a girl. He had never been the masculine type, and it never bothered him. Until boys started to taunt him on football field, calling him names, pulling on his hair and groping him from behind. Football was never as fun as it was before. 

If sleeping with men makes him gay, what does a hand job with his best friend make him? Was he ready to succumb to the stereotype people had been so eagerly trying to put him into?

“It’s not supposed to be like this...” Roger hadn’t realize he said that out loud.  
“What do you mean?” Freddie squinted at him. He was not expecting to hear that after making out with Roger for the first time.  
“We had sex, but I’m not...”  
“Not what?” Now Freddie started to get vexed, “not gay?”  
“You know I don’t mean it like that...” Roger sank back to the sofa, feeling extremely frustrated.  
“Let me tell you something” Freddie towered over him with one hand on the hip, “first of all, I’d hardly call that sex. Second...” he clenched his jaws before speaking again, “if you don’t want me to desire you, don’t ever flirt with me. If you don’t want me to love you, don’t be so fucking good to me!”

Roger was astonished by Freddie’s sudden outburst toward him, and anger began to stir inside him as well. He got up so quickly that almost knocked Freddie over, put his pants on with trembling hands, then dashed out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Freddie shouted behind him as he opened the door, “you forgot your shoes!”

That night ended with Roger running into the cold streets without shoes, and Freddie smashing a few bottles of liquor.

John didn’t really care who his friends love or fuck, unless they were so desperately in unacquired love with each other that almost ruined everyone’s life. The last thing he wanted to see was Brian having a mental breakdown over their friends’ love life. 

So he made some phone calls.

“Hi, Freddie. I see you fixed your line.”  
“Yes, dear. Is that all?”  
“Roger asked me to tell you he will be at your house in half-hour.”  
“What? Why?” Freddie was clearly unprepared for this.  
“He wants to apologize.”  
“Is that so?” Freddie snorted.  
“Can you give him a chance?”  
Freddie sighed, “Sure, what else do I have to lose.”  
“A lot, apparently.” John smiled.

He hung up and dialed another number.

“Roger, something terrible just happened, you need to come to Freddie’s place **right now**.”  
“What? What happened? John is that you?”  
John hung up the phone before Roger could ask any further. 

Half an hour later, Freddie heard a frantic bang on the door. He opened the door and saw Roger at his doorstep in complete disarray.

“What the fuck! I thought you were dead!” Roger shouted, still panting from rushing all the way here after John’s phone call.  
“And I thought you were here to apologize!” Freddie crossed his arms.

Roger lowered his gaze, he can’t run away now, not again, he had to say something. He fumbled with words for a while, and Freddie waited patiently with concerned look on his face. 

“It’s ok Roger, you don’t have to say anything, we can still be friends” Freddie cupped one hand on his cheek, “I still care a lot about you...”  
“But I want to be more than just friends!” Roger had to hold Freddie’s shoulders to steady himself, “I want to be everything for you! I’m sorry about the other night Fred...I...I don’t know, it was complicated...”

That feeling of dread came back again, Roger began to stutter. Damn you! Pull yourself together! His inner voice said to him.

“So... _everything_ , huh?” Freddie said with a raised eyebrow.  
“Stop it.” Roger knew Freddie too well to miss the suggestive tone in his voice, but he was thankful Freddie stopped him from falling into another panic attack. “Will you let me in now?”  
“How can I not when you show up looking like a lost puppy.” Freddie pinched his cheeks affectionately. 

Something began to bloom inside Roger’s heart, filling it with light, warmth, and true happiness. He leaned in to kiss Freddie, who then deepened it with great passion.

“Care to know what would I have done to you if you hadn’t ran out that night?”  
“Yes, very much.”  
“Come on then.”  
Freddie whirled Roger into the house and shut the door behind them. 

One week later, in the studio. 

Brian checked the empty space behind the drums that was usually occupied by a certain blond drummer for the tenth time this morning. 

“They are late. Again!” Brian groaned.  
“Don’t worry. They will be here.” John was more focused on his instrument.  
“Do you know what you have done?” Brian turned to him.  
“What? Helping out two friends?”  
“You’ve made a match of two incubi!” Brian covered his face in frustration.  
John giggled at Brian’s comments. “If that’s what it takes to be happy.”


End file.
